The Sun. — London, England, 1838-08-05 00:00:00

Alves in the volume. On the whelk tte may say that she ,has acquitted herself successfully of a very difficult task. ;TALES OP IT:ATMORIARTY FAMIL Vols. Bentley, London, 1838. the aigt'uor of these tales is unque*tionably an Irishman, 'and 4.li. i ttally evident is it that he possesses, in an eminent *tree, all those rich a d racy powers of drollery for which nis countrymen are so remarkable. Yet his humour is everywhere chastened—everywhere ander the discipline of g ood sense. His first tale, the " Wife Hunter," is his best, if only for the admirable character of " Captain Urrant"—a jolly, shrewd, half-tutored Irish squire—which none but a native of the Green Isle could have pourtrayed. The anecdote of the ancestors of this Milesian phenome noa, who, in drawing plans for a fi ne new f am ily res id ence , left out by mistake all the stair-cases, is as true to nature in its way as Gokismith's story of the Primroses, u-ho had a family picture painted on so large a state, that when completed, they were unable to get it into the house. O'Driscoll is also a well-conceived character—a heated provincial agitator, who causes a whole country to bristle up, by his energetic apostrophes to the " genius of uni versal emancipatien;" Nor is there any lack of vivid de scription in thcse social, light-hearted volumes, which con tain within them all the elements of popularity. 2 voLs. LETTERS FROM PALMYRA. London, Bentley, 1838. The admirers of Gibbon, who entertain a vivid recollec. ition of his splendid episode of Odenathus and Zenobia, and of the glories of that wonder in the desert, Palmyra, will peruse these volumes with deep interest, and will not find their most sanguine expectations disappointed. They are, indeed, worthy of all the eulogiums passed on them by Miss Martineau—a competent and dispassionate judge. INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL IN EGYPT, ARA BIA PETREA, AND THE HOLY LAND. Br GEORGE STEP/HENS. London, Bentley, 1838. This is a new and greatly enlarged edition of a work, 'which has already acquired an extensive popularity, as a znost interesting record of personal adventures in the East. The descriptions are piquant without being extravagant ; and while abounding in evidences of curious and scholarly research, it exhibits a careful avoidance of everything like antiquarian pedantry. It is just the book of travels for the drawing-rootn. FINE ARTS. PORTRAIT OF THE COUNTESS OF MORNINGTON. The execution of this painting is not less meritorious than the design, the former being as chaste and spirited, as the latter is fortunate in its power of awakening interest. Lady Burghersh is the artist, and when it is borne in mind, that the subject of her pencil is the mother of the Duke of Wellington, and that she herself is the grand-daughter of that illustrious and regretted Lady, who died in 1831, at the advanced age of ninety, it will readily be conceived, that a subject, more every way fitted to become popular, could not possibly have been selected. The venerable Countess is represented sitting in an arm-chair, and holding in her hand the Gazette which contains the account of the battle of Waterloo. She has just finished the peru .,Fal of that memorable document, and her eloquent counte ' nance expresses in its every lineament, the fervent, but calm and dignified feelings of joy and thankfulness, which the glorious tidings have awakened in her mind. On the table, on her right hand, is the bust of her third son the Duke of Wellington ; and immediately beneath this bust, is an open letter, dated from Waterloo, and signed by him self. On the same table, is a medallion profile of Lord Cowley, Lady Mornington's youngest son ; on the ground, on the left, the bust of Lord Maryborough, her second son ; the noble artist's father ; and in the gallery at a distance, that of the Marquis Wellesley, her eldest son. All these are admirable likenesses, particularly that of the Duke of Wellington, which is life itself. As a specimen of rich, but chaste colouring, the painting is quite as effective as any that have been lately exhibited ; in proof of which, we may instance the foreground, the whole of which is worked up with considerable skill and ease, yet with scarce the ap pearance of an effort. We are glad to find that an engrav ing is to be made from this fine work of art. FINDENS PORTRAITS of the FEMALE ARI S. TO CRA CY. No. 2. Fraser, London, 1838. We have already expressed our opinion that this work will be signally successful ; and we here repeat that opi nion, and with more confidence than before. The last Number was a good one, but this is many degrees superior, containing three as lovely female portraits as were ever drawn even by thetiattering pencil of a Lawrence. These three—the exact number of the Graces, by the bye—are the Countess of Falmouth, Lady Wilhelmina Stanhope, and Lady Francis Cowper ; all exquisitely beautiful, and there fore we are willing to believe, correct resemblances. That of Lady Francis Cowper has a sweet child-like simplicity— a spiritualized expreision of countenance—that reminds us of the fabled Psyche, as we find her immortalized by the chisel of Canova. She brightens upon us like one of Byron's angels newly alighted from heaven. The face of Lady Wilhelmina Stanhope, though equally attractive, is of a wholly diff2rent order of beauty. Its predominant ex pression is that of archness and gaiety. A sunny smile lurks in the angle of the small month, and imparts brilliancy to the full, black, eloquent eye. The Countess of Stan hope's countenance is that of a Madonna ; thoughtful, and with a softened shade of melancholy diffused over it, that cannot be regarded without deep interest. Three finer spe cimens of female aristocratic beauty than these, are, we are persuaded, not to be found in Europe. The work that contains them should be called, not simply " Finden's Portraits," but Finden's "Book of Beauty." RYALL'S PORTRAITS OF CONSERVATIVE STATESMEN.—No. VIII. Fraser, London, 1838. The word "statesman," however comprehensive be the meaning of the term, is scarcely applicable to the noble Conservatives whose portraits embellish this Number. The Duke of Northumberland ;s a towering patrician, and a good man, but nothing more that we ever heard of ; and as for Lords Wallace and Howe, our political annals are singularly silent on the subject of their senatorial deserts. Even the biographer of these illustrious nobles, though strongly disposed to stretch a point in their favour, can find little or nothing to allege on t! .• <r•ore of their Parliamen tary talents, so wisely contents Lt.nself with dealing in elo quent generalities—tbe only safe way of dealing with im practicable subjects. As works of art, the portraits are entitled to high praise, and the illustrative memoirs are penned in a graceful, fluent, easy style. WINDSOR CASTLE AIND ITS ENVIRONS. Part 1. London, Carter, 1838. The delightful sylvan scenery in the neighbourhood of Windsor and its classic Forest, is well-sketched in this unassuming little work. Here we find its luxuriant Brocas meadows ; its broad leafy woods ; gleaming waters ; river islands, and golden corn-fields ; and its noble Castle—worthy of England's monarchs—rearing up its proud front over all, like the guardian spirit of the landscape. We have seen much of home scenery ; the loveliest spots in Devon shire and the Isle of Wight are no strangers to us ; we are familiar with most parts of North and South Wales ; but we know not that we have ever met with—not even in that most picturesque of counties, Cardiganshire—such lovely spots as are to be found, in every direction, within ten miles of Windsor. The beautiful in all its varieties, and we may even add the sublime, are constantly delighting the eye, in the deep, cool, and sinuous glades of the Forest ; and among the green hills, from whose gradual acclivities landscapes stretch away in distance, that might rival that famous Tempe which the Greek writer, (Dian, has de scribed in such glowing terms. We are glad, therefore, that a writer of Mr. Roscoe's well-known taste, has at length undertaken to do justice to this delicious scenery. Windsor an d i ts Environs " will, we are sure, lose nothing in his hands. ATESMEN AND BEER SHOPS. - ---er--_. (From the 1r ' "'MU Chronicle) But statesmen who conceive their minds to . be comprehensive, : grantedt vi uocl ; re sta h i ne t recollect that there are beer-shops, - ---- an and to beer-shops they resolve to trace the increase of crime in beer, —therefore fm. e Juvenile beer-sho d p e 3 . predators will not hesitate to drink , as a fact indis. are the cause of juvenile depravity. It ;., assumed , by Ind cannot be potable, that boys have a horror of public-homuesesd brought to enter dwellings that have been licensed Quarter Sessions. In the same convenient way it is takenheft:houir: that older thieves would as soon think of breaking into the Governor of Newgate, as of meditating any offence against thela a regularly licensed public-house. It is to beer-shops only resorts. " Deer -stealing and highway robbery," says Lord Dungann on, " are plotted in these places." But who could brin g himself to believ that at the Turpin's Head, duly licensed for the sale of "spirituous liquors and tobacco," any man would be rascal enough to plan the unlawful taking of a purse! Who would be so stupidly cre dulous as to suppose that the capture of a living haunch could possibly be contemplated at the house of call for poachers, the re. spectability of which had been certified by license under the hands of just Justices in Quarter Sessions assembled ! Again : it is taken for granted that small-beer is the great stimulator, and that beer_ shop beer especially engen d ers a taste f or burglary. Ardent spirits, on the other are taken to be things not taken at all by rogues, little or great ; gin is a beverage calculated to cool—to soothe—and to sub due,—it is not supposed to heat the blood, engender bad passions, or gratify depraved tast es : b ut beer-shop beer is dreadfully inflammatory. An honest man who enters a shop where he must drink his mug of minor ale "on the premises," is sure to come forth in fifteen minutes a confirmed housebreaker —or, possibly, he may go as far as poaching. Now at a regularly licensed roadside inn he may (if he likes) take the ale with him, and carry it ten niil before he lifts the mug to his mo uth ; hence it naturally follows, th at s t h ough he should then drink it, and steal a purse, the public-house "..s not the parent of highway robbery. Lord Segrave gave an elegant white bait dinner at Ship Tavern Greenwich, the day before yesterday to a fashion able party. FOOT-BA.LL-B P ' - . (From the A4VktiCYA. Wesildats i fer kidef b.) " The soule," WI, lt. gOtevestre, "Ts Al le'iliOiminrs ball of leather, ' filled with bra*, %Nth Ts thriiivir 'in the air, and fought for by the players, who are . tlivitirbd Int 3 ttvo parties. The Victory rests *with the patty thtt'can carry 'ilft the souk into a different township ttoiii that Wire the g 4 irie has cornmericed. This exerrisefs Rid last vestige of the tret'ship WhiCh the 'Celts paid to ........e very word is of Celtic origin, derived froth Peiict (solo?), in which the initial his changed into at in All the foreign words adopted by the Romans. " The garde of the souk is almost entirely abandoned in Basso Bre. tab:o. It is only in the district of Vannes, among that Warlike race, that that savage custom is to be found in all its primitive brutality. A soule in Morbihan is not a common atiiiisement ; it is a fiery and dra matic game, where people fght and strangle each other, and break necks ; a game which permits a man to kill any enemy, without losing benefit of ele*y, provided one takes care to strike him as if by mistake, arte wlth an unlucky blow. Hence God knows what a fete a souk is for the country! It is a day of plenary indulgence granted to assassination. And who is there that has not some one to kill ?' as one of the most famous societies said to me one day. Besides in the absence of ?Ante en males, the hostility between parishes is of itself sufficient ; for it is always two neighbouring and rival townthips who take sides in the soule. Fre quently, too, a town miter; the lists against a rural population, and then the sport is enVetonied with all the height of the of the peasant against thecititen : It is then no longer a strife of rival parties ; it is a tourna ment of opinions decided by fists and nails. " For the rest, nothing can prove more clearly that we arc mak ing progress than the spectacle of a smile in Morbihan. It is really a strife between town and country, in which men of every condition take part. On that day are seen young men of the most refined habits, the most peaceable fathers of families rain thenßelves with ar tizans to win the souk against the peasants, and to fight with their fists like the English MllOrds. Whoever feels his arm strong enough, his flesh suff►ciently tough under blows, will cast himself into the melee When the day and the place of a soule have been fixed, you see old men, women, and children flocking to the spot from every side, greedy of the spectacle. These are the vanguard, par courtesy, of the combatants. The latter next arrive in numerous bands, the greater part dressed in clothes bound with care round their bodies, so as to offer nothing to the grasp of their antagonist, and hav ing round their loins a strap tightly buckled, to make them run the quicker. The gait of the peasants is generally wary and slow; that of the towns-folk lively, fiery, and bold. The solderers once assembled, the conditions of the game are proclaimed with a loud voice; the prize which shall be awarded to the winner is pointed out; then the MT° par ties retire to an equal distance from the certain point where the soule is thrown, and the game immediately begins. " It is at first carried on only by the weakest players ; the strong keep aloof. They look on, with crossed arms, throwing out to the comba. tants encouragements or hisses, but they take no part in the melee save ty from time to time bearing with the strength of their hands upon some knot of players, so as :to drive them ten paces off, to roll in the dust, one over the other. But little by little, these preludes excite them, and whip their blood up. The soule, taken and re.taken, is already far from the place where it was launched. The outskirts of the township are near; all feel the time is come to interfere. The most impatient lets himself go : the first blow is given ; and then a cry is raised : all join the fight, and push and strike : nothing more is heard but complaints, curses, threats—the rude and dull sound of fists punishing flesh ! Blood soon flows, and at its sight a sort of frenzied in. toxication possesses the soulers. The spirit of a herd of wild deer seems to awaken in the hearts of these men ; the thirst for mur. der seizes them by the throat—drives them on—blinds them. They are mingled confusedly—they press on each other; they writhe one above the other; in an instant the players form only one single body above which may be seen arms rising and falling incessantly, like the hammers of a paper.mill. At a great distance faces, pale or bronzed, show themselves—disappear—then rise again, bloody, marbled with blows. In proportion as this strange mass struggles and heaves, it is seen to melt and to diminish, because the weaker get struck down, and the contest continues over their bodies ; generally the last combatants on the two sides meet face to face, half dead with fatigue and pain. It is then that he who has yet some strength escapes with the soule. Feebly pursued by his exhausted rivals, he has soon reached the neighbouring commune, and thus obtained the prize so fiercely disputed. This last flight, however, is not always without danger. The obstinate hatred of an enemy sometimes renders it fatal, as was proved by Francis de Pontivy, commonly called the Souleur. " Francois had gained the utmost reputation in the game, and had rendered himself famous among the peasants of all the neighbouring townships. In his house, hung and arranged against his chimney, were all the souks which he had gained ; and he would shew them with the same pride as a Mohican when displaying the scalps of his enemies hung round his wigwam. Even when age had dimi nished the strength of Francois, he adorned his house every year with some new trophy. " One man alone had for a long time disputed the superiority of this great souleur. This was one Ivon Marker, a peasant of Kergrist. But Francois had broken his ribs at a snub• held at Neuliac in 1810, and Ivon died in consequence. His son, Pierre Marker, had succeeded to the pretensions of his father without being more fortunate. Francois had left him minus an eye at the soule of Clegueric, and broken two teeth for him at that of Seglien. Since that time Pierre had swam to avenge himself. " A souk was held at Stival, and the two antagonists repaired thither. Everything went on at first just as usual. Francois, how. ever, noticed with surprise that Pierre avoided approaching him during the melee. He had called to him with a mock courtesy—' Come hither, chouan, that I may have thy other eye !' The peasant had made no answer, and had still held himself aloof. But once, to wards the close of the day, Francois, who had been thrown down, was aware at the same instant of two iron shod sabots tramp. ling upon his stomach, and had caught a glimpse of Pierre's eyeless socket bending over him frightfully. Thanks, however, to his own good strength, and that of his friends, he was presently set on his feet again. "Ere long nightfall came. The larger number of souteurs, worn out with fatigue, withdrew from the game; some of thekeenost still disputing the prize, man with man. Francois availed himself of this instant to seize the sonic, and make ;his escape across the country. They pursued him for a while, but he gained the opened fields, and soon was out of sight of the peasants. For a few minutes more their shouts reached him through the dusk of the evening —then they changed their direction, grew more distant, and were lost. Every one considered the souk as won, and gave up. The man of Pontivy stopped for a moment to take breath, for his whole body was bruised and in pain. Never had sonic been so obstinately disputed. After having tried to quiet the throbbings of his chest by stretching himself on the cold ground, Francois got up, and began once more to run towards a brook which divided the townships of Stival and Pontivy. Already he saw the willows which fringed it—his heart began to beat with joy—when he heard behind him that peculiar, soft noise, which is made by a man running barefoot ;—he looked back and saw, in the ob scurity of the hollow path, a shadow advancing rapidly towards him. The old souieur then began to be afraid, for he knew that he was now too feeble to defend himself, and he was too far otf to hope for the assistance of his own people. He resolved to fly, and mustering what. ever strength was left in his stiffening limbs, bent his course towards the brook—but the sound of his pursuer came nearer and nearer, and in another instant he heard the short quick breath of his antagonist close at his heels. One last effort—he has reached the willow trees— his foot is already in the water. At this moment there is a cry in his ear—a cry which he knows well. Francois would have crossed with a single bound the short space yet remaining to be crossed, but incapaci tated by fatigue, he fell heavily upon the sharp pebbles which form the bed of the rivulet. Coming to himself he feels a knee on his chest, and the face of Pierre close to his own, with that solitary eye, and that mouth, smiling grimly—toothless! With an instinctive struggle Fran cois stretched forth his hand towards the left bank, for this bank is in thetottaiship of Pontivy. Can he but touch it he is safe, but the pea. sant has seized that band in his iron grasp. _ " Thou art in Stival, bourgeois! - I have the right over thee " Let me go, chouan!" cried the artisan. " Give me the sonic." " Take it, and now let me go." " There is yet something thou owest me, bourgeois !" " I owe thee ?" " Thine eve," screamed Pierre; " thine eye!" and as he spoke he clutched the left'eye of Francois till it leaped from its socket. " Leave me, leave me, assassin!" cried the Pontivian. " Thou shalt first pay me thy teeth, bourgeois !" and the teeth of Francois were crushed down his throat. A furious madness seemed then to possess the peasant. Holding beneath his left arm the head of Francois, he began to beat it, as with a hammer, with his sabot, which he held in his right hand. This mu s t have gone on for some time, for in the morning Francois was found at the brook-side, without sign of life or consciousness. Such, however, was the strength of the old sordeur, that he was par. tially restored, but it was necessary to trepan him, and from that d ay forth lie was a one-eyed idiot. Pierre, brought before a Court of Justice, defended himself, in answer to the questions of the Judge, by simply saying, that Francois was in Stival when he had overtaken him, and that it was thus they played at the sou le. He was acquitted, but the sonles were prohibited for some years afterwards. SCOTCH AND IRISH SERVANTS. In Scotland, where the served and the servers are not of conquering and conquered races, but even of the same family or clan in some cases, the relation is of a totally opposite character to what it is south of the Tweed. Feudalism in Scotland was modified by clanship, tempered by it, stripped of its worst adjuncts, rescued from its most fatal liabilities. Whatever may be the faults of Scotch servants (except where foreign habits are partially introduced), want of attachment to their employers is not one. They serve those of their own name where they can, and their service has a mixture of worship in it. There is an identity in stead of an opposition of interests between the two parties ; and where there is a sympathy so close, much will be done and borne before mis chief will be made. In Ireland, all is mischief in this relation. Th e case is worse than in England—it is desperate. The same causes operate as in England, but with more force. The invasion is more recent, the imposition Isla conquering aristocracy, and the humiliation of the con. quered are more fresh in' the minds of the native race. It is still a misfortune to be in domestic service there; and the vices consequent on this state of affairs are in full blow. The hypocrisy, thievery, slovenli ness, and utter untrustworthiness of Irish servants in Ireland are noto rious. In Ireland, we say, for their character changes for the better in countries to which they emigrate. They improve the more, the further they get from home. In America, where they find themselves in the • midst of a new state of things, they begin better than they left off here, and rise in respectability in proportion as they gain an insight into their new position. Some of the most faithful, affectionate, high-spirited domestics in the world are Irish footmen and housemaids in America. A man who in Dublin would not be trusted to buy a joint of meat, has in Boston (Mass.) the charge of his master's plate and wines, while, the family travel a thousand miles south or west. Strangers who visit Dublin find, in all the better order of houses, that the dining and drawing.rooms are as superb as the scale of the premises can be made to allow, while the servants are not only kept under ground during the day, but lodged there, and too frequently in dark and utterly comfortless closets. The difficulty of choosing a dwelling in Dublin is great to an Englishman, though empty houses abound. The ac commodation for servants is so bad that a considerate English master cannot reconcile himself to his splendid receiving.rooms, so accompa. nied. The Dublin lady often appears at the breakfast.table with a loaf under her arm, a bunch of keys hanging from one hand, and a plate of butter in the other. She cuts off the proper number of slices of bread, and sends them down to be toasted ; and, when breakfast is done, dis appears to unlock her stores and give out the meat, sugar, spices, &c., which h. are wanted for dinner. On the arrival of a guest, she puts into ment a asking whet th (key of the wardrobe in his room, and is surprised at his w r li h e i t herhe must lock his drawers every time he quits his apart_ land, is ou which is much worse than the state of things in Eng. ter and servant here to the same causes as injure the relation of ma, imposition of rne,r;eitghne aristocracy difference been n w o h r a e v e n s , a e i , t that the wretched feelings occasioned by its oppressions more fresh. i Lord Claude Hamilton, brother to the Marquis of Abercorn, visited Naples last month, and is now on his way to be present at the coronation of the Emperor Ferdinand of A ustria. ARRIVALS AT THE MOUNT EPIIRAIN I H OTri TUNBRIDGE- WELLs.—Lady Barrington W ith Mi ss B arringt ; the Earl of Ashburnham, Harry Chester, Esq., and Lady Crawley, Esq., and family ; Mr. and Mrs. H. Franklin ' • Mrs. and M;ss Birch, &c. The Hon. Percy Ashburnham still continues at the hotel. Apartments are taken for the Right Hon. Lady Rendlesham and daughters ; also Mr. and Miss Holland: THY "- SHAL SOULT TO SHEERNESS. VISIT OF HIS EXCELLENCY MAR- FROM MTh O'l 7 N REPORTER.. It having been intimated to the . authoiities at Sheerness that Marshal Solilt and his suite would pay a passing visit to that port, on their way to the Continent, preparations were made in the course of Saturday afternoon, to give his Excellency the molt tbrdial and honourable reception the time and circumstances would admit of. We under stand that Admiral Sir Robert Otway, Bart., Com mander-in-Chief at Sheerness, met Marshal Soult at her Majesty's State Dinner on Wednesday last, when the Marshal intimated to Sir Robert that his Ma jesty Louis Philippe had requested him, if possible, ta, visit his old friend Sir Robert Otway before leaving Lngland. An invitation was immediately given, and as cordially ac cepted by We Marshal, who regretted that his arrange ments would not permit him to devote more than a few hours to the inspection of the Docks, Arsenal, &C. His Excellency and suite left London on Sunday mor ning at four o'clock, having previously visited the Tower, which had been thrown open at that early hour by order of his Grace the Duke of Wellington. At a quarter past four the two French steamers La Meteor and La Phaeton; commanded by Captains Ba.'rbOtin and Goubin of the French navy, got under weigh, many of the vessels in the Pool having hoisted their flags as a parting compliment to the distinguished strangers. From an early hour look-out men were stationed on the different heights and forts of Sheerness, and at a few mi nutes before nine, the French steamers hove in sight, when they were greeted with a Royal salute from the Howe, which the French steamers returned. The scene at this moment was extremely beautiful and interesting. All the vessels in the port were decorated with a variety of flags and streamers ; the fort in front of the Admiral's house was also similarly decorated—yachts, steamers; and boats of every description, were in motion in the harbour, and every point and eminence from whence a view of the steamers could be obtained was crowded with the inhabitants of the town and the surrounding districts. The Admiral's splendid ship the Howe, 120 guns, had the French tri color flag flying from her main top-mast, in honour of the illustrious visitors. By the Admiral's directions Mr. Brown, the Second Master-Attendant, boarded the leading French steamer on entering the port, for the purpose of conducting the vessels safely to their moorings and in about half an hour they came to an anchor within a few hundred yards of the Hoive. Adatiral Sir Robert Otway, accompanied by Admiral Sir Philip Dur ham, Commander-in-Chief at Portsmouth, immediately left the pier in his barge, and went on board the Meteor, where they were received with due honours by the officers and crew. The most cordial greetings having been ex changed between the Marshal and Sir Robert, his Excel lency and suite entered the Admiral's barge, and proceeded to the pier, where they were received by a guard of honour of the 56th Regiment with presented arms, the band strik ing up " God save the Qacen." The immense crowds as sembled on the pier took oft their hats and greeted the Gallant Veteran with loud and hearty cheers, which his Excellency acknowledged with his -usual condescension. The party then proceeded on foot to the Admiral's house, where his Excellency and suite were presented to Lady Otway, and the young ladies, with whom the Marshal, his son the Marquis De Dalmatia, and the Marquis De Mornay, conversed for some time. From thence the dis tinguished visitors were escorted by Sir Robert Otway through the arsenal and dock-yards, Sir Robert, who speaks the French language with great fluency, explaining to the Marshal every object of interest, in their progress. The model of the docks, which is a very curious and beau tiful work of art, attracted considerable attention, the whole of the vast area being built on piles, and his Excel lency asked several questions as to the expense of the works, the time taken in their construction, &c. The sixty-eight pound shot fired into the town in 1658 by the Dutch Admiral, De Ruyter, when Sheerness was burned, was also shown to his Excellency. From thence the party proceeded to the dry docks, where the Cam bridge, 74, the Vernon, arid some other large vessels, Were under repair. The Gorgon war steamer was the next object of interest visited, and the distin guished strangers expressed themselves highly pleased with the exquisite workmanship of her engines, and the strength and elegancl of her construction. A very curious and in teresting relic was here presented to the Marshal by Mr. Bankes, a snuff-box composed of a piece of timber taken from one of the piles of old London Bridge, which had been under water for 760 years. The box was beautifully polished, and mounted in fine gold, and the Marshal ex pressed himself much pleased with the gift. On leaving the yards his Excellency expressed himself much gratified by the polite attention of Mr. Fincham, the builder, Capt. Claville, superintendent of the Chatham Dock-yards, and the other gentlemen by whom he had been accompanied. The barges of the Admiral's ship and the French steamers were then brought alongside the pier, and the party pro ceeded on board the Howe, where they were received with a salute of guns, the Marines and guard of honour of the 56th presenting arms. Captain Paget, and the offi cers of the Howe having been presented to his Excellency, the company went over that splendid vessel, the high order and neatness of every part, calling forth the warm cowmen. dations of the distinguished strangers. Every part of the ship, from the quarter deck to the cockpit, was visited, all the decks, the store room, carpenter's room, armoury, &c., &c., were minutely examined, and a glass of English seamen's grog was tasted by several gentlemen of his Excellency's suite, in the store-room. The party then proceeded to the state cabin, where a very sumptuous ddeutzer a la .fitrehette was provided. In the centre table, and immediately opposite the Admiral was the magnificent vase presented by the King of the French to Sir Robert, with the inscription, " From Louis Philippe, premier Roi de France, to Vice-Admiral Sir Robert Otway, Bart., 1832." The side-board was loaded with plate, and on the table were various naval and military emblematic devices of the union between France and. England. Here the Marshal was shown. four brass thirty-two pounders, which had been sunk in the Royal George off Spit head, and which had been " actively engaged" in t he action with Conflans, under Lord Hawke, in 175 9 . This point was delicately alluded to by Sir Robert Otway, and the Marshal appeared to appreciate in this as well as in other instances, the generous feelings of his host, who, throughout the day, did the honours to his numerous and distinguished guests with all that urbanity and cordiality for which the gallant Admiral is so pre-eminently distin guished. At twelve o'clock the party, consisting of about sixty, sat down to table, the Admiral being supported on his right by his Excellency Marshal Soult and the Marquis de Mornay, and on his left by the Marquis de Dalmatia and the Duke de Vicenza. Among the distinguished persons present were Admiral Sir P. C. H. Durham, Commander in-chief at Portsmouth ; Major Layton, and the officers of the 56th Regiment ; Colonel Warre, Commander of the Forces at Chatham, Colonel Pasley, , Royal Engineers, Lord Oranmore, and the Hon. Miss Brown, Lord Ilehes ter, Lord Staffordale, Colonel Hay, East India Com pany's service, Lord Wharncliffe and Lady Caroline Strang ways, Sir John Hill, Superintendent of Sheerness Dock yards, Captains Barbotin and Goubin, of the French navy, Col. Naudet, Lieut. Otway, Count Praslin, the officers of the Howe, and the various men-otwar itationcd at Sheer ness, &c. &c. The repast comprised every delicacy of the season, with a profusion of Champagne, Burgundy, Bor deaux, and other wines ; -the dessert included pines, peaches, nectarines, melons, grapes, and other fruits. In short, everything connected with the entertainment was got up in a style of costliness and magnificence worthy of the rank and character of the Gallant Admiral and of the il lustrious strangers for whom it was provided. Sir ROBERT OTWAY 7 in propoiing the first toast, said— My Lords and Gentlemen, I am sure that in an assembly like the present it is unnecessary to preface the toast I am about to give you by any introductory remarks. Englishmen have been always proverbial for their loyalty and attachment to the Throne, and the illustrious strangers who have honoured us with their presence, will, I am satisfied, join with us heartily in drinking the health and long life of her Majesty the Queen. The toast was drank with loud cheers, and a Royal salute of 21 guns from the Howe. Sir ROBERT OTwAY again rose, and said that be did not require to look at the splendid vase which stood before him to remind him of the honour he claimed of having b een th e ; intimate friend of his Majesty Louis Philippe.—(Cheers.) He had known that great Monarch in the days of his ad versity. He had seen him again at the Tuileries, when he stood among the greatest of the Monarchs of Europe ; and he had found him the same good and dignified individual, and had witnessed the same cordial and gentlemanlike demeanour by which his Majesty had acquired the esteem of all parties in private life. His reception at the Court of Louis Philippe had been most flattering—(Cheers) —and h e would only say that such a man was worthy of b e i ng th e King of the French, and the French nation was worthy of such a Monarch.—(Great applause.) He would not de tain them further, but give them, with all the honours, the health of " Louis Philippe, premier Roi de France." The toast was received with great cheering, and a salute of guns. Sir ROBERT OTWAY said—Gentlemen, I will now give you the health of an amiable and illustrious lady to whom the British nation is deeply indebted upon many grounds. Among these, I need hardly re mind you that her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent crossed the seas at an inclement and perilous season, in order that the future heiress of the British Crow n m i g ht be, i n ever y sense o f th e w ord, an English Princess.— (Much cheering.) The pains she has since taken, and the time she has devoted to the education and instruction of her Majesty, deserve the eternal gratitude of the English ----/ tmtiV, t'olloi\r - , 'grxrp-AY, AUGUST 5; 1§38., tuition ; Oncl I shall, therefore, give you, with the greatest respect and cordiality--Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Bent, and the rest of the Royal Family.- 7 (Loud and vehement cheering, followed by a salutb of 'guns.) - Sir R. OTWA 4 Z again rose and said,—Gentlemen, the tine of our distinguished visitor is limited, and I hall, therefore, be brief. I have now the honour to propose to you the health of our illustrious visitor, the hero of a thousand battles, Marshal Soult.—(lmmense cheering.) Proud as lam of distinguished station which I hold in our beloved Queen's service and household, I am hardly less proud of the honour of receivingun board her Majes ty's ship the illustrious stranger who sits on my right hatid hero to ithtim may justly be applied the words which were once applied to Washington the Cincinnatus of America— " Cradled in arms, a soldier from his birth, He stands the awe and glory of the earth." (Loud cheers.) These lines are perfectly appropriate to our distinguished visitor, who, I trust, will carry with him to France such impressions of the reception he has met with here, as must cement more closely than ever the ties of amity and friendship between thp icy° , countries.— ( Hear, and cheers.) it was once said by Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, that if he wore King of France not a musket should be fired in Europe without his per mission. If this be so, now that we have established un alliance perpetuel entre France et r Angleterre, I have no fears that the peace of Europe will be for many years disturbed. I speak in the presence of many military and naval officers, and perhaps it may be said arinst my own interests, for our trade is war ; but I am for peace — (Hear and cheers) —lasting and perpetual peace, between the two great nations of France and England. Gentlemen, I have received many proofs of the honourable and gene rous character of the French people- and the sword which now hangs by my side is ari illitstralion Of this feeling On their parts ; for it was presented to me by the French in habitants of Martinique, as a mark of their esteem, at a time when England and France were hostile to each other. —(Cheers.) I now give you, with every feeling of respect and esteem, the health of his Excellency Marshal Soult, Duke of Dalmatia, and may he long live to enjoy his well earned laurels. The toast was drank with three times three, and great applause. A salute of cannon followed, and a gust of wind having carried the smoke through the cabin windows, the gallant Admiral observed that be would make do apology to the Marshal, as the smell of gunpowder must be familiar to him, and must be reviving to the heart of an old soldier. Marshal SOULT placed his hand upon his heart in acknow ledgement of the compliment, and immediately rose to re turn thanks for the honour paid him. He had received the most cordial and flattering reception in every part of Eng land, and he should not fail to report to his Sovereign, the kind and cordial manner in which his old friend Admiral Otway had welcomed him at Sheerness. He hoped that peace and friendship would be hereafter cultivated between England and France ; that all rivalry, except the generous rivalry of two friendly Powers in the arts of peace would cease, and he felt much pleasure in drinking the health of all the Naval and Military Officers present.—(Cheers.) The Abittram. then proposed the health of _.Sir Philip Durham, Coriarnandef-in-Chief at Portsmouth, who had come over expressly from that station to do honour to the Gallant Marshal on his departure from this country.— (Cheers.) Admiral DURHAM returned thanks. In the name of the military, naval, and civil departments of the port, he begged leave to return thanks to the Marshal and his friends, for the honour they had conferred on them, in visiting the docks and arsenal of Sheerness.—(Hear, hear.) He could assure the illustrious strangers, that that atten tion on their parts would not be lost upon the English people:—(Cheers.) He wished his Excellency and suite a safe and speedy passage home ; and when they returned to their able and enlightened Monarch, whom he had no doubt providence had sent to them for the regeneration of France, and the peace and happiness of Europe, he trusted they would be able to tell him, from the reception they had met with in every part of England, that the British nation was not insensible to the honour he had done it in sending such a representative.—(lmmense cheering.) He was aware that the Marshal was pressed for time, and as many com pliments had been already paid him, much better than 'any he could express, he would merely conclude by wishing his Excellency health and happiness.—(Great cheering.) Marshal SOULT rose and said, that he regretted ex ceedingly being obliged to depart, but he could not retire without giving them the " Health of Lady Otway and her amiable and lovely daughters."—(Tremendous cheers.) Sir ROBERT OTWAY returned thanks in an appropriate • manner. • The Marquis DE MORNAY said they could not take their leave without again thanking the brave English people for the kind and hospitable- reception 'they had met with. He trusted an opportunity would be afforded himself and his countrymen of repaying it at some future time. He would give them, with every feeling of sincere regard, the health of the English people, and the English • and French Navy united.—(Great cheering.) His Excellency then took his leave, shaking hands cor dially with Sir Robert, to whom, he said, he had been in debted for one of the happiest and most delightful days he had passed since his arrival in England, and that he should not fail to report to his Majesty Louis Philippe the atten tions lie had received. It was rather a curious coincidence that at the moment the Marshal rose to propose the health of Lady Otway, a servant entered the cabin with a magnificent bouquet of rare exotic flowers, as a gift from her Ladyship to his. Excellency. The distinguished visitors then left the ship in the Ad miral's barge, under a salute of guns, and about one o'clock the French steam-boats got under weigh. On passing the Howe the yards and rigging were manned, the Marines and guard of the 56th presented arms, the band playing the National Anthem—three loud and hearty cheers were given by the officers and crew—the cheering was re-echoed from the piers, and the other vessels lying in the harbour—and these were followed by the discharge of cannon, forming a most brilliant and apg propriate close to the visit of his Excellency to this country. Notwithstanding a heavy shower of rain was fallin g a t th e ti me , hi s E xce llency and suiteNemained upon the deck of the steamer, returning the salute of the British man-of-war, and the last gun from the steamer ha I not ceased to reverberate when the party were far down the river, on their way to the French coast. The Marquis and Marchioness of Westminster will entertain a party at Moor Park, Rickmanworth, to morrow. Since the period when the Noble Marquis enter tained William IV. and his Queen a sum considerably more than 30,0001. has been expended on the estate. The Marchioness of Normanby is entertaining a family circle at Mulgrave Castle, Whitby. Lord Mulgrave and the Hon. Mr. and Mrs. Henry Liddell, from Eslington Hall, are among her Ladyship's visitors. The Duke of Leeds is expected to arrive at the Clarendon Hotel to-day, from Ilornby Castle, for a few days, on business connected with the affairs of the late Duke. His Grace will return to the north preparatory to his annual visit to his shooting quarters, Mar Lodge, in Aberdeenshire. In 1815 I fully satisfied myself of the Carrion Crow's inordinate partiality for young aquatic poultry. The cook had in her custody a brood of ten ducklings, which had been hatched about a fort. night. Unobserved by anybody I put the old duck and her young ones in a pond, nearly three hundred yards from a high fir-tree, in which a carrion-crow had built its nest; it contained five young ones almost fledged; I took my station on the bridge, about one hundred yards from the tree. Nine times the parent crows flew to the pond and brought back a duckling each time to their young. I saved a tenth victim by timely interference. When a young brood is attacked by an enemy, the old duck does nothing to defend it. In lieu of putting herself betwixt it and danger, as the dunghill fowl would do, she opens her mouth and shoots obliquely through the water, beating it with her wings. During these useless movements the invader secures his prey with impunity. — fl aterton's Autobiography.—Quarterly Review. SOUL T AND ALLAN CUNNINGIIAM.—Our goo d friend Mr. Allan Cunningham was introduced to Marshal Soult, and as the interview was interesting, the reader, we should suppose, will be the reverse of displeased to peruse a hurried note of it, given as nearly as possible in his own words :—" I saw him at his residence at Portland House; he received me kindly, took me by the hand, d me on a sofa beside him, and said he was indebted to his friend, thiaecßaron de P., for making us acquainted. I said I had desired to see a man. of great and strong talent by Nature, and not by Act of Pal lia. ment , that I had long admired him for his generous tribute to the me mory of Sir John Moore, and looked upon him as one of the noblest. minded of our foes. He smiled at this, and turning to me said—Foe ! was your foe, at least in the coarse sense of the word; I wa s never taught to respect you in the sternest of all schools, the battlefield; and it was only yesterday I told your young Queen that Britain and France had tried the sword long enough to each other's harm, and should now try what friendship could do, and thus ensure the peace of Europe. I bowed and replied—Marshal, you are still in the field; you have won other countries by the sword, and now you come to conquer us by cour tesy. As I said this he pressed my knee gently with his h a nd , and made some allusion to poetry. He is a noble martial - featured man, tall, too, an d vigorous; and I thought of Austerlitz and many a bloody field as Ile shook hands with meat parting. But we are not to part yet ; he has sent me a card for his great ball of this evening (fith July) when I will aga in see, I feel assured, the same simple, easy, courteous man I found during the interview I have attempted to describe."—Dumfries Courier. ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON IN 1 815, BY A LADY OF TILE COURT OF LOUIS TUE XVHL—The Countess de 81-- no sooner saw Lord Wellington than she fell deeply in love with hi m . His eagle-like countenance completely captivated her. The lady's royalist sentiments might certainly have some share in this en thusiasm ; but, be this as it may, the poor Countess was in love. When in company with the Duke she sighed and assumed all sorts of lan guishing airs. She no doubt thought it a very fine thing to have a hero for her lover. At length a rendezvous was solicited and granted ; but its result did not appear to convince the lady that the Duke was quite as amiable and gallant as he was reported to be. She was greatly enraged, an d s h e spoke of the Duke in the most contemptuous terms, There are some things which a woman can never pardon ; when the Countess heard that the Duke had received the baton of a Fr-neh Marshal, she said that he deserved a cudgel rather than a baton. Only those who witnessed the state of things in France in 1814 and 1815, can form an idea of the extravagant political fanaticism which then prevailed, and which in several instan ces was converted into love. T h e a b ov e story I had from my friend the Viscountess de Vatt--, who was exceed. ingly intimate with the Countess de Bl—. I communicated it to the King, who Was much amused by It, PiiIIVIiO6EI`;IITUitE. By the " aticlent la is Mid institutions" of this country, when a Nobleman dies without leaving a male heir, but several daughters, his hereditary estate must be divided, share and share alike, among those daughters ; and no greater benefit could be conferred on the realm if the same law were applied to sons as well as daughters; as, without in. dieting injustice on any one, it would give substantial justice to every son, whilst it would break up those vast masses of property, the posses. sum of which in few hands produces such vast evils, not only to families but also to the nation at large. It is singular that Constantine the Great cautiously guarded himself and successors against the establishment of a permanent body of Nobi lity, regarding such a body dangerous to the Princt ; whilst in England atitither policy ha§ been and still is pursiled—to establish a body of hereditary Nobility, which is become so strong as to be able to deride the power of the Throne, to take possession of the great mass of what was formerly Church property, and, also, as each day's experience proves, to set at defiance the most solemn deter minations of the Representatives of the nation. The right of the eldest son to take possession of the hereditary estates bad some counte. nance given to it by the laws of feudalism ; but the whole of that mili. tary web has long been worn and torn to tatters, so that there is not a pretext for continuing the unjust and atrocious practice ; and it is not improbable but that some day, when the younger sons of great Aristo cratic families get choked-off from the 13tibliC purse, they Will be&onie the mist clamorous and determined of any to abolish a prinCiplt of iniquity, which, whilst it renders the eldest a Peer, reduces the other children of the same parent to a condition that even a peasant might despise. The advantage of a sub-division of land is exemplified in a re markable degree in this country; especially in Lewes and Brighton. At the Conquest the Barony of Lewes, which had belonged to Harold, became the property of the Conqueror, who gave it, as the dowry of his fourth daughter, Gundred, to Lord de Warren of Normendy, who sub. sequently resided at Lewes, the remains of the Castle and Priory of which mark the princely state in which he lived. With some changes the Barony ultimately came into the hands of ,the Earl of Arundel and Surrey, who, dying without issue, that portion of his numerous pos. sessions which was annexed to the Earldom of Surrey was divided among his three surviving sisters, Elitabeth (Duchess of Nortblk), Joanna (Lady Abergavenny), and Margaret (Lady of Sir Rowland L;iniil3l). The Barony dills became divided among these families, .aftef which the Castle, as none could claim exclusive possession of it,becaMe neglected and fell to ruins. The inhabitants, no longer awed by the presence of an imperious Lord and his insolent suite, began to taste of the first fruits of independence, scanty as it was. Many of the neigh. bouring gentry, no longer fearful of the feudal nobility, chose the town as their place of residence, and purchased fragments of the severed Ba rony. On a further partition of the Barony, in 1483, between the Howards and the Berkleys, Lewes and her lords became more es. tranged, and the policy of Henry VII. soon afterwards facilitating the alienation of landed property, the industrious burghers and others pur_ chased manors and farms in the vicinity, and hence arose numbers of respectable freeholders and copyholders. Similar"operation had been going on for centuries throughout the Barony, and, instead of this rape being pestered, as In some parts the inhabitants are, by the paramount and oiretwhelming iniluehce and poWer Of a great ford or dutte, a great body of independent men and independent minds has been established, who will, if occasion require, act for themselves. It is our wish that every great barony in the kingdom was broken up in the same way, and this might be done without injury to any, by compelling an equal division of hereditary estates among as sons among females.—Corre spondent of the Brighton Herald. JOBBING IN MATRIMONY. Our readers are not perhaps awate of the extent to which the welding trade is carried on the Scotch side of the Solway. Gretna Green, it is true, has long been famous as a matrimoniai mart, and with it are associated the names of many Patricians, such as two learned Lord Chancellors, Edward Gibbon Wakefield, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and the Prince of Capna, with the fortunate and beautiful Miss Penelope Smith, who each and all ' passed the Matrimonial portals by the aid of the 'GFetnd or Springfield blaCksmith ; and in dome ot these cases, we understand his officiating fee was one hundred guineas. These are prizes in the list, however; but a great trade is driven in joining humbler men and maids, who have as good a right to be married and happy as their betters, and accordingly more than one station has sprung up on the Scottish Border. If the fee is smaller, there are a greater number of them, and we are informed that the keeper of a cabaret and ferry-boat on the Scottish side of the Solway occasionally splices " for better for worse" half a dozen couples in the week. The ferryman is altogether a decent sort of a fellow, and obliging withal, as the following facts will show. A few days ago, an acquaintance of our own, a Dumfries merchant, happened to be pac ing the sands, in company with a friend, when a party were observed making their way from the English to the Scottish strand : "These gentry need my assistance—they're weddiners," said mine befit, who has a keen eye for the sublime. "Then will you allow me to officiate ?" said the other. "By all means," responded the ferryman ; and in a few minutes an English sea Captain presented himself, with a fair damsel from Cumberland, whose heart had, Desdemona-like, fairly given way under the recital of deeds of daring and hair-breadth 'scapes on the stormy main. Our townsman, for the time, assumed the attitude and intona. tion of the Priest, and in the course of three minutes the Captain was a Benedict. The process is as follows :—Printed certificates are pro duced, into which are inserted the names of the candidates for matri. rnony, with the parish and county from which they hail ; the priest then asks the gentleman if he be willing to take this woman and cherish her as his just and lawful wife, which being answered in the affirmative, the same question is put to the lady, and as she never receives it with a nay-say, the document is forthwith signed by the pair, attested by the signatures of the priest and others who may be present, and delivered over to the young wife. A tass of brandy, or a quaich of the mountain-dew, passes round to the health of the young couple, the fee is paid, and the party sot out to spend their honeymoon as they list. The fees of these pedestrian or boating couples amount to from 2s. 6d. to 105.6 d. each, and altogether a round sum of money finds its way to the Scottish side by this species of traffic, which is to the full as convenient and speedy as the new system of English registry. No one will applaud the morality of the system, but still it is a system ; and, after all, the Church is rarely despoiled of her. Ones ; for these.triarilages - are gene rally celebrated in the teeth of OppOsing relatiOns, or on the spur of the moment, and after the young folks have passed the Rubicon of the way, testy fathers and crusty mothers find that better may not be, and accordingly wipe out the levity of the Solway wedding by asking Mother : Church to interpose her authority by countenancing a regular ceremo nial.—Dumfries Courier. Her Majesty will give a grand entertainment at the now palace on Friday, the 17th instant, to celebrate the natal day of Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent. This•will close the Court parties in town during the present season. IRISH CORPORATION BILL.—The Dublin Even ing Pest of Thursday, speaking of the Municipal Bill, affirms that the entire Liberal Press unanimously reject it, and that the feelings and opi nions of the Irish public are most averse to the measure sought to be inflicted on them. Our Contemporary concludes his remarks in the fol lowing terms We will wager a silver penny that should this Bill be come an Act, the claimants will not find such difficulty as has been re cently experienced in the Queen's Bench. But, indeed, there will ba few mandamuses, Mr. Conway Dobbs, the RegiStering Barrister in Dublin, will be compelled, under this Bill, to receive as many claimants almost as offer themselves for enregisterment. -Sir Robert Peel told his party long ago, that the battle of the Constitution, as he called it, was to be fought in the Registry Courts. And, most certainly, this Bill furnishes the party with a weapon, which must, here after, ensure their victory in (wry rite and borough in Ireland. In the course of twelve months from this time, the freemen will, judging by the progress they have already made, be able to swamp the freeholders and householders of Dublin. In truth, we do not know how a limit can be put to their numbers. Nineteen-twentieths of them are penny, less paupers ; and, we need not add, that freemen are the scandal and opprobrium of electors at all times arid places, and that in Dublin you can hire their votes for a guinea or two a head. Now, these , persons would be the makers of Members of Parliament for this city in a feW • years. But what would be ►ikely to occur here, will inevitably happen elsewhere. What can hinder the fragments of the ascendancy in Cork, Waterford,,Limerick, Kilkenny, Clonmel, &c., frOiti scraping together any low Protestants that may still remain in the purlieus of those towns—fellows without any qualification at all—presenting them to the Registering Barrister, on the plea of birth, marriage, or service, and insisting on the rights thus provided for them by an Act of Par liament. We will venture to say that, in six years, there is not a city or borough in Ireland that would not be contested. Nay, we are satis fied that if this Bill pass—the liberties of the country—in as far as her electoral rights are concerned—would be placed by far in a worse position than before the passing of the,Reform Bill." - • • LADIES AgD THEIR DRESSMAKERS.—The two scenes following, lately came tinder our knowledge within a few hours of each other. The one set of actors are ladies of high rank, collected in a large country house. They breakfast late, and soon return to a hot lunch, when they drink a great deal of wine. They ride till dinner, when they drink wine again, and retire to the card tables. They play till midnight, whist with sovereign points, one lady losing in one eve rting five thousand pounds. Supper with wine again follows, and con. mimes the remainder of the hours of darkness. The other set of actors are the dressmakers of such ladies as these. They are for the most part young, and many of them not done growing. It is near midnight of the second night of working, when they should have been sleeping, and they are to it through the whole of this night, and the next day : that is, three days and two nights of incessant sewing, an occupation which cannot safely be pursued for more than a few hours at a time. These girls are fed high ; roast beef, porter, port wine; the rooms ere kept light and hot; every stimulus is applied. Three at once drop off their chairs, fainting ; they are plied with strong green tea, and resume their work. As often as they are sinking, more strong green tea is given to them; their eyes are dim, their skin burns, their hands tremble, their voices are hysterical—but the ball dresses are finished; and when they come to be paid for, more or fewer of them turn out bad debts. These are facts.—London and it Review. THE LATE SIR PUI-TENEY MALCOLM. It iS with ,Al aco t i l n i ie deepe st wasregreta rav w e, we skilful,reco the h : m deathnei considerate Admiral C S i m P in u a l t n e d n e e r y , who was respected by all ranks and parties — a genu i ne Sailor and a lie. hearted n S e c r c o it u c s h m g o a o n a t o q l b , a o l o i t, h Ilia ti ews secured e n n e r v e e dr fearedfor him a foe i munbounded flinched ppopularity, a u f l i a l r e i t; t y l whether he trod the deck or his own estate, and he was one of the four Knights of Eskdale who sprung from the same pastoral roof-tree—Burn foot. So late as Saturday last we were waited on by a stranger, who most anxiously inquired whether there was any truth in the report that " his old master" was dead. We, of course answered in the affirma tire, and but rar e ly h ave we seen an individual more deeply affected The querist is a surgeon who had sailed with the deceased in early life. and his words were--" a kinder or juster man never existed. The youngest boy in the ship could approach him as readily as the oldest officer. He was generous and kind to all, and so mingled example with precept that he ruled by love rather than fear. A braver or kinder officer never trod a deck in calm or storm."—Dumfries Courier. MISFORTUNES OF AN HEIR-AT-LAN. — The misfortunes of an " be it then known to all to whom these presents come greeting," commence from the hour of his birth. There is a period in married life when the olive-branches begin to thicken, and then, indeed, a child may venture upon existence, without the fear of being killed with kindness for his trouble ; but the birth of a son and-heir is a very different matter. The arrival of a personage of such vast importance is an affair of so much joy, and kicks up so much con fusion, that the whole family is in a conspiracy against him. The young gentleman is at once constituted a common centre, round which every thing turns. In the drawing-room, in the nursery, and the servants'. hall, there is such a stir made to welcome him into the world, that the long odds are decidedly against his completing his first year, much more against his arriving either at man's estate, or his father's. Every one must dandle him, at the risk of breaking his ne c c a k rli ; es a t n r d ec e o v li e e r c y tio o n ne t m o m us y t t f e ezi h , a y t e t a h r e t r l i i s f k , o w f a c s ho a k r in a g pi h d im aiter F na m ti m on m o y f gorging and of physic ; and between the cook and the apothecary, it was a miracle how I escaped poison. My mother was never satisfied that I was in safety, and that, too, not without good reason ; for I certainly was as sickly a brat as ever swallowed pill or powder, so that the physician was almost in daily attendance. While I was crammed at all hours of the day like a pincushion, because the young heir was to be refused nothing, I was nightly supersaturated with cakes, ices, fruit, and wine, at the family dinner-table—by my parents through fondness; by the guests, if not in sheer malice, at least to get rid of my troublesome importunities Thus primed and loaded for indigestion, and sent to iced to sleep off the consequent fever as I best could, when I shrieked aloud under the horrors of a night-mare dream, the nurses gave me laudanum " to make the darling quiet;" and the doctor folloned as a matter of course hi the morning, with his infernal black dose, to cure at once the disease, and the effects bf the surreptitious sleeping..drops.—CoMurn's New Monthly Magazine for "Inguct. MORALITY OF THE SIXTEENTO CENTURY. • It now turns out that Henry the Eighth, on whom the Pope conferred the title of Defender of the Faith, was for, years engaged in procuring assassins to murder Cardi nal Beaton, the Prime Minister of Scotland. The last volume of State Papers published throws a new light on this Ore; cious deed, and affords a strikingproof of the dernoralizet! state of society in England and Scotland about the period of the ReforMation. Smile of the first, men in these king' doms were abettors of the murder ; and'in answer to a let ' ter sent to the King by the Earl of 6assilis, offering l ° commit the deed, the Privy Council through • the King's secretary thus writes :—" That his Higbe e° reporting the fact not meet to be set forward, e x ,' pressly by his Majesty, will not seem to have to do is it, and yet not misliking the offer, thinketh good dr Mr. Sadler to whom that letter was addressed should wri te to the Earl, of the receipt of his letter containing such ad offer." offer." It adds—that the service would be acceptable , au the murderers would be rewarded. Sir Ralph Sadler, 1 0 1 time Ambassador in Scotland, afterwards Couricifie'r to Or, Regency of Edward VI., and one of the Commissioners for settling the disputes between Mary and the Regent 'Murray, thus writes on the subject to one of the accomplices " Therefore I am of your opinion, and as you write, think 1 ,, to be acceptable service to God to take him out of the wqi , And Henry plainly intimated, through his Privy Cowl°. that some Frenchmen, who wished to be reconciled to Ins .. Government, had only to entrap or kill the Cardinal, fel some other great man, in order to gain their object. 11 ,, murderers, who had hitherto been supposed instigated on by religious zeal, fled to England, and were protected by thy King. The last number of the " Athenaeum" gives a 1 1 5 and interesting account of the whole of these new rious proceedino. __ _ ROYAL ETIQUETTE IN FRANCE UNDER T rim OLD REGIME. The King lay, not in his great bed, but in a smaller su cl very low one which was prepared for him, and removed eve/ morning. The king fixed every night the hour of his risiuP and orders were given to the valet,de-chambre on duty 10 0 awake his Majesty in case he should be asleep at the til l ' appointed. But the first valet.de-chambre on duty bad K i e l : viously gone into the king's room with the footmen to es ti , guish the light called mortier, to kindle a fire if it was winter f time, and take in the night collation, consisting of a jug 0 0 wine, anothet be pufe water, bread, a fowl, some fruit' goblet of silver gilt, and several ntipkinL A the The King being awake, the Grand Chamberlain au— first Gentleman of the Bed-chamber wore informed that til,e.e might enter, whilst a valet went to direct the offi cer s of °l t kitchen and buttery to prepare his Majesty's breakfast. he the same time an Usher took possession of the door of t chamber, that only such persons as had a right to come g 4 pay their respects to him might be suffered to pass. l ie Majesty chose this time to tell the first valet to admit t grand entree. se' The grand entree consists of the great officers of the W u o f hold and the Crown, persons of quality, certain Marshals . th France, and some p r i v il ege d l a di es , w h o s h are t hi s f a vour lo p the cravati e r, th e t a il or , t h e s li pper -b earer , t h e b ar ber-ial be dinary, the two barber-assistants, the clockmaker, and apothecaries. While all these persons are making their way into t e chamber, the first valet pours upon his Majesty's hands a bu d e , of spirit of wine int o a s il ver - g il t b ow l ; t h e nap ki n is P r O r sented by the Grand Chambesican or the first gentlernaut, the Grand-Master of the Wardrobe, or even by the prenu e The vessel of holy water is then presented, and the Kra having made the sign of the cross, repeats, or is suppuT,"` T il. repeat, some pray er b e f ore h e r i ses f rom bed . L ou i s S r. put on his slippers himself ; it was a service which his co eoi tiers would not have disdained ; but the King made tu amends by granting them the honour of holding his more gown while he put it on . Thi s d one , h e went to the B r chair in which he was to dress himself. ho The king then asked for his chamber, that is, those? of , were not yet there. The Usher on duty took hold of the l o t and his coll eague wen t an d w hi spere d i n t h e ear o f the. 1 ,, gentleman the nam es o f th e p r i nces , am b assa d or s, ear diri e l i t• bishops, duk es an d p eers , mars h a l s o f F rance , Bente!' generals, first-presidents, attorney-generals, peers a nd detec t ties, who might be present ; and the first gentleman rue their names to the King. b The officers of the household passed unquestioned b ut e t rsr e moment an unknown face presented itself among the u t ' eoc l the owner was stopped by the Usher, who asked his name , te r decided in his wisdom whether he could permit him to e n ur e without referring to the first gentleman. All who ua,„ e thither were obliged to conform without a ml customs; it was likewise requisite for the , they were to scratch, and not to knock ; closed door was to be opened only by the U officer on duty at it. The ,reepte,l3 . t for _the King to dress bell Pages of ficerhamber - staliiind'thernselves Majesty's -slippers; when required. nis shi covered with white taffetta: to present it t( an eminent distinction, coveted by the high_ the realm. The King put it on in the presence s h m is a m m o c r i n o itnhge-clothes titude, but, for d ecency ' s .sa k e, two valets-de.' b e n h g : Master of the Wardrobe, the sword, blue riban St. Louis were brought, and afterwards thr the rule that the King should empty with hi pockets of the clothes which he wore the pre that he should tie. his cravat himself : three chiefs were handed fo him in a dish of silvei permitted him to take one, two, or even'all th A valet held a mirror before the King (11 time of dressing, 'and two others lighted him or were supposed to do so. The various ord for the day, the King frequently granted nuncio or to the ambassadors. Louis XVIII. usually breakfasted either just after mass, according to the distribute lie admitted to his table several of the gre: household. Ile had a good appetite, and fond of mutton-chops so arranged as to allo but a single mouthful of each of them : he al boiled in champagne, but to please him it was necess' they should be burning hot. in the going to mass the King took pleasure in stopping prir; 11. of the Marshals, to receiv e suc h p e ti t i ons a s we re ag ing sented to him : he received them with a mos t encon% graciousness, and then hand e d th em t o th e person s of tinue. The petitioners had no doubt that he perused a rem requests with attention : alas ! they were dismissed, to b ferred from one to another with the sonnet of Orontes. . . ief ACC!: MAN BURNF.D A LIVE.—A more ShOek.i.v o y dent than we are about to relate, it has seldom been our paio fd a l ! ' ces rs ; record. The unfortunate subject of it was John Baird, aged who, on Saturday last, was burned alive at Benston Cumnock, where he had been employed for upwards of f ` irt ,, Y stsn e° About nine o'clock of the morning mentioned, he was brationi, on the kilnhead, and incautiously stepped with one foot 11 1 3 ° 11 tD , e , to break a stone which had rolled upon it, when the kiln being hollow below, the burning gave way under his weight, an d the u u j o el nate man instantan e ou s ly di sappeare d , th e kil n b e i ng twen ty fee t wor" and the burning limestones on the surface closing over him. i t workman standing at his s id e, was w it ness to his fate, sod giving the alarm, the other wor k men h as t ene d t o the SP' , w t es human aid was unavailing. They, h owever, b e t oo k therss e emptying the kiln by the eye, when they di scovere d the bo dy oft l i n f 016 fated companion in the very heart of the flames, in the centre kiln, from which it was withdrawn with hooks,--Edinburgh Co uj beo - STATE te n THE NAVL—A great deal 0 3 - said and writte lately about the comparative state of our na3 lti e '; ciency and that of other.countries; but those who discuss the °f ,lin g appear to forget that the difficulty does not lie in equipping s biP- f e li ' e l force in any required number, but in getting men. We may' ,„,e s°e ! France and Russia build and e q uip as many ships as they P'''": 10 ; ( .0 % . assured that the inadequate and incompetent crews they ca nish will only deliver these vaunted models into the bawls f State"' tars, meet when they may. If we, and still more other Europe,!" no do could find sailors as easily as we can equip ships, we should be'" ficulty for any naval armament: —Ulster Times. Of As the time of the coronation of the EmPe r , j or oso, hig ber Austria as King of Lombardy, at Milan, approaches , the ~oes sta o s r z e y ns busied k about i mappe a r their n sceovset aitenuti m occasion. It consists of black P 3 e a i i,p'eiaedgneri dress becomeit,intender) rrlish cetoi n made very full, fastened at the ancle, over red morocco boots ; g o!'" coat of white satin buttoned all the way up—the butt"s of t Waist,P studded with turquoises and diamonds. No cravat is used, bu t nificent diamond pin is fixed in the shirt at the neck ; round the t ad over the waistcoat, is a sash worked in gold and silver, and of v. , g r ' e colours, the fringe hanging down in front ; and a short coat n ii ` in d cloth embroidered in gold, with open sleeves thrown back b e fir eci° shoulders, is worn over this. The buttons are studded tv itl L e 'r SP oe g stones. A rich sabre with a scabbard of an antique form, '"' s a square white cap, edged with b rown Astrakan, and bearll i o i °l . l l feather with brilliants, compl e t e th e costume. This is t he r ° oe s form of the Gallicians. It is said th a t several of the Yon",, f ,et sclie , l l appear in similar dresses, which w ill h ave a magn ifieentnrpe contrasted with the Hungarian co s t umes. The Austr i a n G°„ l " t iss%a has authorised the construction o f a ra i lroad from M i lan to P t ' t 0 1 ' 0 distance of three leagues. M onza contains nearly 400 t(ic t° other manufactories. The daily average of travellers bet ween , 4 1 places is 1,260. a c cia`, CURIOUS WAGEII,--A curious wager wal i , 1 ,001, c some time ago in a village near Manchester, where at a 1 411) 7; 0 1d parish clerk , famous for garrulity, was upbraided with it, and , 0 D our ot if his life depended upon it he could not hold his tongue for ttt o Vi'ls,, Moses, piqued at the insinuation, offered to wager the meneY o ; s pes o ,', s have for digging a grave on the following day that he did, n he bet .ieo t word, good, bad, or indifferent, for the time specified. „ o p concluded, the chatter.box screwed up his month, and becarn' va hot , los as the grave. All means were tried to provoke a word, ben....01. At last a person was sent to tell the clerk's wife that her b",: isc ic P 4, taken speechless. Terrified at the news, she posted to the e Z o o 1 1 _ 1 ;1 On entering she immediately asked her good man how b self? He only answered by a nod and a shake of the bea u wee. , 0 0 shake thy head at me, Moses ! How does do ?" a l " of - deli fl og speak, Moses! Oh! I shall go mad." Every s ymptonl swef e, jo , soon made its appearance. She stamped, she wept, b e scolded, she a. Still Moses held his tongue. — iS to° eia' sje cl creased, she tore yed her cap, and began to tear her hair. . lera .. , e so je ',De much for M oses, and, with a louder voice than he had ev ese" Amen," he bawled out, " Rot thee, thou soft toad, thou , al , t h at digging of old John Williams's grave, and be hanged to thee. If we lash one another let it be with tl'e strokes of wit and satire ; for lam of the old philosopl _i _e a r th .s er tli that if I must suffer from the one or the other, woultillsr. be from the paw of a lion than the hoof of an ass.— Ad d on DP , London Printed and Published by_ MURDO YOUNG,OOO 112, Strand, at The San Office, No, 112, Strand,' ti"" - of Middesex. —Sunday, August 5, 1838. All w„,, _ murmur to thee em to know tha t ind lastly, that $ Usher, or by the Ivsnff arrived, tol bi„" shifs bl 5 Was .broughc L,° the ping - was nest noblemen of ence of the tatil- de-ehonbre held his done, and tlic placed by tile, ) and, and cross of he coat, Jt '' 34 Lis (Iwo 1111150 e receding clay, ata .! pocket-1100' er gilt; etiquette burreeng the . • a bqle i with fiarnbetnis, ders being- gre:i t i l f' audience to.„ j us t before 1%.1 lion of his 00 , . ;at °cia o of r . was particularli' ow hint to 0 10 " also liked truftles noressary tbst rt •1 Si Alrq th e at T v . liro• .net Sity aPPro L T Th; ,A si u nt i l BILL T `~, P h ePosit 1I ; %11 t1: .** _. D;q _._: ✓✓'